Jesse Glass


Before Sleep


Before sleep                     hear
music through walls
and
"see you in a minute"

she is, round-bellied, lifting
a glass of water
to the bedroom light

lens of my being/ poppet
shadow thrown
within her                the child
intensely interested in touching
its head

A needle to push in your womb
woman
a beak primitive & long
sips up the warm bath
of the mollusk fetus,
tells us

nine cells had 46 chromosomes, one had
less than 46 and none more than 46
the karyotype 46, XY
was observed in nine cells/ corresponds
to a male fetus without evidence
of numerical
or structural ab-
normalities

held to the light
thumb and forefinger
how we squinted at the
evidence without once seeing
the rainbow fractured on the wall
behind us.

Little world,                     nature
groping through any way it can,
little world

how honeybees fight to preserve
the cipher
                Australian mole rats
red ants all
with their simple mathematics
their coiled secrecies
guarded before and behind
by those ready to take
death into their mandibles
and sting it        devour it
in what could pass for fury
                to pile calmly upon
                the intruder
                and pass from
                consciousness
                to protect
their Queens
seated on the edge of the bed                     wearing her
red kerchief     takes it off   lets the blond hair fall
she's
scratching her sides
complaining about the heat

will I lose this weight by summer ? God, I can't stand this. I look like a horse.

the western gate block hewn by hand of Gog/ Magog horned moon shining redly above it.

she was porous in-
wardly & variously
clothed with skins: in
her womb were inter-
folded heavens & in-
choate stars.

can hear
music through

her, see wavering
lights/
this/
the traveller
this/
the hill

& our voices
soothe his
kicking

Stranger who waits
behind love's imaged veil

Artificer whose hands
are fully formed
at seven months;

the form making proto maker
who carries
the ability to
sling the sledge
in spark light
& uncoil sunlight
in a chain
of ciphers

turns in the secret
chamber, in tumulus,
in dream time
a crown of iron/
brass/
gold/
upon his brow,
the toothless mouth
gripping   one
breath
tainted w/sound
neither howl
nor word
coiled beneath the tongue

indehiscent
eyes, lips
pods

to break apart
in the mundane moment
in the intellectual light

accept
if he will
the world's
New Welcome.

Jesse Glass: Three Visuals & A Story For The Masses

 
 
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